My Other Half
by FallingFree10
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is a heartless but characteristic and amusing consulting detective. But when he meets a perfect colleague and perfect match, will he let himself free? Sherlock/OC May be a little OOC at times. Used to be 'You Need a Heart to Survive'.
1. Chapter 1: Angel Smith

_Chapter 1: Angel Smith_

SHERLOCKS POV

"Morning John." I muttered as my colleague, John Watson came trudging down the stairs. John stopped momentarily, then held up his phone. He did a little cough, causing me to glance towards him before turning back to the newspaper he held in his hands. "You sent me a text...Why didn't you just wake me up?" He asked. "Because, John, if I had got up the place where I am sitting on the sofa would have gone cold. Returning to something cold isn't very pleasant." I explained. John put his hand back down and frowned. "Wha-Never mind." He said quickly. "Anyway, why did you want me to come down stairs? Some fun?" He said, noting sarcastic at the word "Fun". "Merely another case. So yes, fun." John shook his head and turned to the fridge. "What this time?" He asked. I grinned at his obvious lack of sleep. I turned on the TV, then switched it to BBC 1 Breakfast news, keeping my eyes on the news paper the whole time.

"_The body of 21-year-old museum receptionist Angel Smith was found dead _

_In her flat after been beaten and stabbed to death, with a gun also involved._

_The Police are searching for any signs that will lead them to the killer but _

_Have so far found none. Help had been requested from several other detectives_

_Including Sherlock Holmes and Avril Swan."_

"Avril Swan? Who the hell is she?" John asked, puzzled. I was surprised he hadn't heard of her. She was also seen as a consulting detective, and has been of use in many cases now. "Avril Swan, John, is another consulting detective. She-"

"Wait, I thought you were the Worlds only consulting detective?" He interrupted, getting even more confused. I rolled my eyes. John just didn't read stuff that is actually happening anymore. He prefers fiction, instead of the news. "Until she became a detective. Which was quite recent, actually. I don't really mind, as long as she doesn't get in the way." I added. He raised his eye brow then let it drop. "And when do we set off?" He asked.

"As soon as you're ready."

-A little time later-

We arrived earlier than we expected. John paid for the taxi. I didn't protest or object. I needed my money for more useful things. D.I Lestrade smiled slightly when we got out of the Taxi. "Sherlock, John." He greeted us quickly then gestured us towards the house. I just walked towards the flat without a word, John smiling at Lestrade and then hurrying after me. "Manners, Sherlock?" I chuckled and shrugged. "Sherlock?" John asked again, a little more firmly. I just continued walking, without a word, until John grabbed my wrist. I sighed. "Manners don't matter to me. Manners are nothing, John. Useless. Something I don't need to store." I explained, tugging on my wrist until it broke free of his grasp. "Useless? How are they useless? Manners are what give you a good reputation! Manners are what give you friends! _Girl_friends!" I sighed again. "You just don't grasp the concept, John. Firstly, why should I need friends? You are my friend and my work is my friend I need no more. And secondly, my work is not just my friend, but also my wife so I need no _girl_friends." I explained. He opened his mouth to speak again, a female voice stepped in.

"But, Sherlock, maybe friends are unnecessary, manners are still good to consider. For example, manners for the police so they don't think you are the criminal. Which, according to Sergeant Donavon, is gonna happen one day. To you. Though I really don't believe that." The voice was subtle, beautiful and a bit sarcastic. Not about when she said "Though I really don't believe that", I could tell. But when she said manners are good to consider. I didn't think she was as bothered about them as I was. I could tell immediately who she was.

"Avril Swan. It's a pleasure." I said simply, waiting for her to appear from the shadows.

"Sherlock Holmes." She finally stepped out into the blurry light of the fog. She cocked her head.

"What an honour."

**Sorry it was so long. If I had stopped at the bit where John and Sherlock left for the crime scene it would have been way to short. And then I got carried away, and ended up with a very long chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it! And are looking forward to chapter 2! And remember: Press the button below. You know you want to.**

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	2. Chapter 2: First Impressions

_Chapter 2: First Impressions_

AVRILS POV

"Honour?" He asked as he withdrew his hand from my grasp. I shrugged. He was supposed to be famous. Sort-of famous, I guess. What about his military-doctor friend? I had never heard or known a single thing about him before now. I could decipher him as easily as I could decipher a Caesar-shift cipher code. Military Doctor just got back from Afghanistan, obviously. His face was still slightly tan, say he got back 2 weeks ago. Used to see a physiatrist about war-time issues. I hope he sued his physiatrist. She got it all wrong, whatever it was he had problem with. He has a wound in his leg presumably from the war, it's healing though. The limp in his leg is tiny, but still is viewable. Well, by me at least. By the look in his eyes he's bothered about something, and it isn't about manners any more. By the time I had figured all that out it had taken only one second from my life. And other peoples lives. My head cocked again, but this time at Doctor Man. "What's wrong?"

He looked a bit blank. I smiled. He blinked. "Nothing...Really." I raised my eye brow, then lowered it and sighed. And groaned. I started pacing around him. He groaned again then spun round to see me grinning at him with a wide smile. John Watson. Nice name.

"John, tell me! I need to know. Otherwise your problem won't be solved." He groaned. Sherlock chuckled and smiled. "I hate it when people don't tell you their problem." I muttered. It's so annoying. Sherlock nodded, probably guessing what I was thinking by the look in my eyes. "How do you know my name?" He asked. I sighed again. "Your collar." I answered. He frowned. I half-smiled. "My _Collar?" _He asked, very confused. I love it when I get people confused. Their _reactions_. The way they raise their arms. It's most satisfactory, to say the least. "When I paced around you. When you went in the army you named everything, your clothes especially. You haven't done your collar properly. I would say you were in a rush to arrive, huh? Your collar's ruffled. You wrote your name on the inside of your collar. The inside of your collar is sticking up, and so the name is clearly readable." I explained. He lifted his arms suddenly, then stopped. Then he lifted his arm more. Then he fixed his colour, and snapped his arm down. My eyes flicked to Sherlock, who had listened to the whole thing with a brilliant grin. "Terrifying, really." He said, his hands in his jacket pocket, and rocking slightly on his feet. I smiled back at him, and bowed.

A little time later, we stood in Angel Smith's flat, perched over the dead body. "Pretty, that's for sure." I said as my finger traced itself around a rather big bruise around her neck. I could feel Sherlock's eyes staring at my back, as his finger lifted parts of the body that he was really concentrating on. He chuckled at my comment. "How long then?" He asked me. I knew what he meant. My fingers left her neck and started pulling her hair out of her forehead. "1 year really, but I became big 3 weeks ago." I replied. "1 year? And are you enjoying it?" He asked. He raised his eyebrow as he spoke. Of course, I couldn't actually see him, but I knew he had raised his eyebrow anyway. "Hell yeah!" I said, as my head snapped round to see him. Yeah. Raised eyebrow. Staring at me. He let out a small smile. "What's not to like?" I asked him. Everyone was listening keenly to our conversation. "You don't seem like the loving-the-deaths type. You seem rather different, actually."

"Different?" I asked him, a little confused.

"Yep. Different...Er...Plain." He said. Plain? PLAIN?

"Excuse me?" I asked, getting up. He got up with me.

"Plain." He repeated.

"Plain? What's plain?"

"You are. I just said that!" He answered.

"Well, you're...Idiotic!" I shot at him.

"Idiotic?" He stepped back, offended.

"Uh huh!" I confirmed, my voice raising. Who did this guy think he was?

" I thought I was an honour!"

"Hardly!" I snapped.

"So if I'm not an honour, what am I?" A frown had been carved into both our foreheads.

"An arrogant ass hole, that's what!" I yelled at him.

He tutted. He seemed to be enjoying this, even though I was insulting him. "No swearing, Avril."

"Whatever." I replied, then I turned to D.I Lestrade. He also seemed to be enjoying this. _Everybody _was.

"Angel Smith- She worked at the London University for Juvenile Delinquents, a cleaner. The wound around her neck clearly indicates that she was strangled- by a belt. There were some clothes underneath the bed, I'd say she had a man with her. A romantic interest. I'd say he was the killer. She probably knew something about him that she wasn't supposed to. He went to the JD school as a pupil- so probably some gang he belongs in." I explained quickly. "She smells of men's deodorant. Presumably his- Or maybe its Sherlock's?" I wondered aloud. John laughed. So did Lestrade, also Sally D. "I don't wear Deodorant!" He Insisted.

"Uh huh." I muttered, but loud enough for everybody else to hear. "I'll be leaving now. I'm going to check out the school." I turned back to Sherlock. "Beat you there." He sighed. "Yeah, right." I chuckled, and just as I was about leave, I leaned over to him and whispered something in his ear. Then I left. I could still clearly hear their conversation as I strode down the stairs.

"What did she say?" I heard Lestrade ask. Sherlock didn't answer for a while. "Sherlock?" He asked. "Sherlock?" He repeated, putting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Sherlock Holmes-" He paused, probably because that's when I paused, "-I have found you." He whispered. He started fiddling in his jacket-I knew by the sounds of pages, ruffling, zips (Off his wallet) and keys rattling- then he turned to John with excitement in his eyes. "Come on! We have a taxi to catch, or she'll beat us there!" He laughed quietly as he heard my footsteps quicken and I started to run.

**Sorry it was so long (Again), I got a bit carried away (Again). Anyway, I was looking in my inbox this morning** **and I already had LOADS of people reading my story and favouriting it and alerting themselves. I'm so Happy! Here are most of them. If there are any I missed out, I'm sorry but thank you too!**

**SweetLilNothing**

**WingedHybrid**

**HockeyandMusic**

**Terrorist of the Seven Seas **

**MyNameIsEve and Star-light1990 were the reviewers that I thank. **

**I got only 2 reviewers last time...I could have even more if you click the little blue link that leads to a box were you type in critical and heart-warming things. THANK YOU EVERYBODY!**


	3. Chapter 3: Eleanor McShane

_Chapter 3: Eleanor McShane_

SHERLOCK'S POV

I left pretty quickly, too quickly for John. I could hear him mutter sarcastically under his breath as he raced after me. I had been aware that everybody has been listening to my argument with Avril. I don't know why she was so offended by that. I actually enjoyed it. The argument, I mean. I was a bit offended when she called me an idiot but I called her plain and she blew up! Went ballistic! And there was really no point.

As I thought all these things rapidly, I hitched a cab and said through the plundering rain, "London University for Juvenile Delinquents." I practically yelled at him. "Shortcut, please." He jumped in the back of taxi, and started to drive. "Stop for a second..." I told him, and I saw John running after the car looking irritated. He opened the taxi door- which luckily wasn't locked –And then glared at me. "You could've waited!" He snapped in a low voice. I shrugged, and smiled.

"You two look to sofistica'ed to be Delinquents?" The cabby said to us as he drove. I could almost laugh at his accent. So stereotypical. He had obviously been a delinquent as well, by the look of his dressing standards. "No no, we're not Delinquents. Not at all. My friend here is a military doctor – sorry, _was _a military doctor. There's been a murder, and a suspect of ours is there." I explained, not really concentrating on the driver. "And you need to get there quickly?" He asked. My head snapped up confusedly. "Why d'you say that?" Forgetting that only two minutes ago I had asked for a shortcut. I need to beat Avril! Otherwise she's one up on me. "Because, mate, you asked for a shortcut!" He reminded me. I cocked my head to the side and the cried "Oh!" at him. "That's just because..." I hesitated slightly. Should I tell him? Nah. "I've got other cases to do and I want to get this one done quickly." I lied. John raised his eyebrows and fought to keep back the laughter rumbling inside his stomach.

After another 5 minutes of explaining, we arrived. "That'll be 30 quid! More for deh shortcut." I handed him the money absentmindedly, eager to get inside and see if she's there yet. "John, do you want to be useful?" I asked, so I could come over to Avril alone. He nodded, and straightened up. I smiled, pulling out some paper from my coat pocket. "Go to this address," I said, giving him the paper, "And interrogate him." He nodded again, going back over to the taxi that had only just stopped. The cabby was about to set off again when John rushed over. Good. Now I'll check out the scene by myself.

I basically sprinted over, and when I reached the glass doors, I slowed to a walk. Then I pushed it open, and froze. "Damn it!" I muttered. There was Avril, talking with Lestrade. She had beaten me! Well, I guess she did leave first. Her head snapped over in my direction, then a school – girl grin appeared upon her face. "Sherlock! I was wondering when you would arrive!" She made it sound as if I was going to take forever! I bet she's happy. "I have to say, you took a while!" I smirked as I realized one essential thing about her. Something I had surprisingly not noticed before. "Iraq or-" I was about to ask, but she cut through me with a smirk and chuckle. "You noticed that, huh? Actually, it was Afghanistan. Front line." She explained. Her eyes suddenly took on a haunted look, full of pain and anger. I was a bit surprised actually. I didn't know that was her thoughts on her job in the army. "You resigned. You had been studying criminology before, and turned to being a consulting detective. Funny, I thought I made the job up?" I added. She laughed.

"And _I_ thought _I _made the job up! We were made for each other, Sherlock. Think about it." She tapped her head, as if she was tapping her mind. I had to admit, she was right. She was just like my twin sister. Except I would never accept her for a sister. She's more like a friend. But she's not quite a friend, just a colleague. Accomplice. Acquaintance. "I knew I would beat you. But now, our little game is over, we shall get back to business?" She gestured toward a room, which I was guessing was the hall. She probably had a crowd of students gathered up. Then, a girl rushed up to us. I pointed to her. "Oh, this is Eleanor." Avril told me. I held my hand up as a hello, then I reached for her hand. She frowned. "Please," I asked. She sighed, then gave me her hand. "Hard finger tips, suggests she's a guitarist. About 20? Speak." I commanded. She stepped back, but she left her hand still on my palm. "Hey..." She said. That was hardly anything. "No no, read out a poem, or a sentence from a book!" I cried. She chuckled. "You know Sherlock, you don't have to read me." But he continued staring at me expectantly. "Fine, fine. Er..." Then she coughed, and began reciting a poem that I knew all too well. "Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometimes to hot the eye-" Interrupted her with a small chuckle and raised eyebrows. "Shakespeare fan?" She shook her head, and gave out a small smile. "No, not really. Avril made me learn it off by heart." Avril flashed an innocent smile at me, and I laughed. My laughs are always low and small, but this one was a little louder. "Singer." I said simply. Eleanor smiled brightly. "I can tell by the elegance in your voice-"I stopped abruptly. "Eleanor McShane! John's niece listens to you." I told her, smiling. Now everybody was smiling. Completely different atmosphere from last time I met Avril. "Eleanor is not just my favourite singer, but also my colleague. She's actually really good at it all, which I have to say, surprised me." Eleanor growled slightly under her breath. I smirked at this, then realized I was still holding her hand. I dropped it rather abruptly, then gestured towards the hall. "Shall we?" Avril smirked.

"God Sherlock you make it sound like we're going to a ball!" She commented. I laughed.

**Sorry it's so long, but I guess that means you get more information, and story stuff...! Once again, I please ask you to search this rather long page for something that says "Review". I think it's not far from this writing. Remember, if you review, I'll put your name down here! **

**Yours Always,**

**Falling xx**


	4. Chapter 4: Interrogation

_Chapter 4: Interrogation _

JOHN'S POV

The flat wasn't far from the school. I just ran as quick as I could down the street, until I reached it. 14b. It took several rings, but then he answered. He looked generally worried. That was a bit suspicious. But I told him who I was, as if I had never suspected a thing. He welcomed me in, still wary of the fact that I was "Half a policeman". He got me a coffee, then sat down, leaning his chin on his hand. "So, are you here for Angel?" He asked. I nodded, then asked my first question. "Did you have a romance with Angel?" Was my first question. He shook his head. "Nah, but Jamie did." I raised my eyebrow. "Jamie?" I repeated. So I had to go searching for Jamie's in the University registers. "Yeah, Jamie. One night stand though. He told me the whole thing. From start to end." It was coming to me now. "And can you tell me what he said happened?" He hesitated, then smiled. Taking another sip from his coffee, he began. "Jamie went out that night with some mate of his that he had out of the Uni. Just to the pub. He got drunk, so did his friend. Jamie wondered off, met this girl Angel." I smiled and nodded. "Angel Smith." He smiled. "Yeah. Angel was also drunk, and they well….Interacted." Interacted? That was a…peculiar word to use. I would've used Got Off, or something similar to that. "Well, that's all I need, thank you! I'll be leaving."

I did leave, and I quite quickly. I was eager to get to Sherlock and give him all my news. How some man called "Jamie" must have done it. I ran back down the street, just as I had 20 minutes ago. I was getting so bloody tired, I could call the streets a good bed! I slumped through the door of the University, panting heavily. "Ah, John!" Cried Sherlock as he rushed over. "What did you gather?" I coughed a lot before I answered, then panted a little more. Finally, I breathed out : "Jamie did it." Sherlock clamped his hand over his face. Sliding his hand down his face, he groaned. Then shook his arms around. "Jamie? John, there are MILLIONS of Jamie's here!" I held out my hand, and sighed. " Listen, here's the story." I explained it all, every bit of detail. Finally, there was a long silence as I waited for him to speak. And then all he said was simply the word,

"Liar."


	5. Chapter 5: An Unpleasant Surprise

_Chapter 5: An Unpleasant Surprise_

AVRIL'S POV

I could hear the faint murmurs of John and Sherlock, discussing something that right now was of unimportance to me. So I ignored them, and grabbed my bag. Slinging it over my shoulder, I rushed off through the door. "Avril?" I paused. "What?" I spun round. Lestrade was there, one eyebrow raised, the other in a sort of frown. "Going?" He asked simply. I nodded. I needed to get out. "Why?" Why was he so interested? Seriously, I was just going home. Was that really so suspicious? "Because, I need to go home. Quickly, won't be long." He shrugged and turned round. My mind flashed quickly to Eleanor, then left her again. Hell, she can get a Taxi. I hitched my cardigan back onto my shoulder then gave a quick simple wave in Sherlock and John's direction. As soon as I was out, I caught the nearest cabby and told them my address. It was silent, other than the CD of The Beatles that played over and over. Luckily, the drive wasn't long.

I paid him, then ran out to my flat. 118b Trafalgar St. The keys were in my pockets somewhere, but eventually I found them and I was in my flat. The first place I went to was the Laptop. Facebook; (I logged on a false account) Search. I searched around the name Jamie. John had information about him. There, of course, were millions of Jamie's, but when I looked quickly at the register once (I heard John say it was a Jamie) there were only four Jamie's. Jamie Williams, Jamie Cullen, Jamie Kingston and Jamie Tennant. I searched these names up, one by one. I stopped as soon as I found Jamie Williams, and smiled. Captain Jamie Williams. I distinctly remember one of the members of the Uni saying that "Cap'n Jamie" knew Angel. Then this Jamie appears again, in a story that could possibly be part of the murder story. I smiled, and asked him to be my friend. Then I'm able to get more info about him.

I went into my kitchen and brewed up a coffee, then sat down with it as I read one of my favourite books, "Pride and Prejudice. My mind spinned over the murder. So, Captain Jamie. Peculiar nickname. There was something wrong about this. If I said this to Eleanor, she'd just shrug and say it was a friendly nickname. But it wasn't. He had it for a reason. And not because, he was the winner at a party or something like that. It was like, Captain of a team, a group, a gang….My mind quickly flashed back to earlier this morning, when I had told Lestrade what I had gathered after my little argument with Sherlock. I had suspected him to be in a gang…. Just need to find out about it.

My head was now spinning because of that tiredness that was choking my thoughts so badly. I shut my laptop and washed out the mug that the coffee had been in. Grabbing my alarm clock, I trudged upstairs. My eyes were drooping, and when I got out my mobile to turn it off, I could see the dark rings under my eyes in the faint reflection on the screen. Rubbing my eyes, I turned the door handle and pushed the door open.

And Froze.

**Dn Dn Dn! What made her freeze? Of course, I know, but can you guess? Come on, I want all your guesses! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and like always the review button is down there, just begging to be touched and clicked upon. Remember, guesses people!**


	6. Chapter 6: One Step Further

_Chapter 6: One step further_

AVRIL'S POV

It scared the living daylight out of me. I had obviously not been expecting it. It would just be creepy if I had. It was all creepy and weird and actually quite terrifying. But, on top of all these rather similar emotions, was the most familiar emotion of all. I felt excited. That part wasn't strange, actually. It was the part that there was a girl, lying on the floor, her auburn hair spread all over the carpet, dead. In my room. And on her was a note, written in neatly, "Avril Swan" on it. I opened it, throwing quick glances at the young girl. She must have been only 16, out for the night. For some sort of party, I expect, looking at the rather revealing outfit she had been wearing.

_Time to play. _

The first person I called, of course, was Sherlock. All I said was, "Sherlock, I've found something interesting." He just said he would come over, that was it. But it would do, we would speak more later. Then, of course, it was D.I Lestrade. He sounded really surprised. I was sort of expecting that. "Just come over, Lestrade. I'll tell you- No, sorry, you'll see what it is that I find so...Interesting." They both came round. In the end, so did Sergeant Donavon. Before they arrived, I had been sitting cross legged, examining every part of her body and how she died. There were several bruises, three slash marks on her back and...There was an M slashed into her arm. M. M for what? Mum? Ok that's ridiculous. Screw that idea, how about a name. Like, I don't know... Then suddenly a name came from the back of mind and squeezed itself into the front. Moriarty. Wait. Who's he? Why do I know him? Oh hurry up, Sherlock. I'm getting bored. I should probably call Eleanor, actually.

As all of these thoughts went through my head rapidly, I heard the door bell ring. I continued sitting cross legged and just shouted at the top of my voice, "It's open!" They obviously heard me, because a few minutes later Sherlock came sauntering up the stairs. "Interesting thing you were talking abou-" He stopped when he saw the girl lying on the floor. I grinned. And then held up my hands innocently. "I didn't do, I promise you. I just came up stairs feeling very tired and voila." His mouth twitched up, and I saw the excitement dancing in his eyes. "So far all I've found out is that she set for a party, got drunk and..." I trailed off, as my mind flashed back to Angel Smith. This was just like that! The party, the drunkness then the aftermath- Murder. But that was more about a gang. "The murderer's playing with us. Trying to set us off track!" I realized as I got up and ran right past Sherlock. "Where are you going?" He called after me. I looked back over my shoulder. "The Juvenile Delinquent, obviously!" I called back. I sprinted down the stairs and quickly haled a taxi, slamming the door behind me.

The trip was short, as they always are. I was there pretty quickly. Spoke to the receptionist, headmistress, once I had that out of my way, I was off to classroom 10H. I quickly had a word with the Teacher, then she announced to a certain person to come out, and it all went very quickly until I was in the room, alone, with him. The guy who was at the top of my suspects list. Captain Jamie. Once we were fully alone, I sat down and leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees and my hands clasped together. "So, Jamie, tell a bit about your nickname." I asked. He laughed and shrugged. "Well, I got it in a race, when I came fir-"

"No you didn't." I interrupted quickly. I cocked my head, reminding myself that if anything goes wrong, I have a gun in my jacket pocket. He raised his eyebrow questioningly and smiled. "How do you know?" I ignored him (Of course). "I believe you got it from a gang. Tell me a bit more about your gang?" Jamie's face went hard. I smiled. He shook his head, his eyes throwing out emotions of anger and fear. "I don't know what you're talking about." I snorted (Of course. I mean, this is bullshit). I straightened my head up again, my face now stern. "Yes you do. Now stop making this hard for both of us and tell me about the gang. Now." He shrugged. He was basically mirroring me now. "He was in the exact same position. To be honest it's the kind of position that Sherlock and I normally sat like when talking together. So I did something was a bit random and pushed him. "Jesus, what was that for?" One side of my mouth twitched up. "That position's stolen. Sorry." I told him quickly. "Now, I just need to kno-" Then my mobile rang. I picked it up and held it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I said into the phone. I heard a man laughing and frowned. "I'm sorry, who is this?" But I got no name. I just got a subtle remark, "You're really enjoying this. Well, it's nice to see that you're happy." I clutched the phone tighter. "M-" I began, but voice faded. "What do you want? I can tell you're not the murderer, so who are you?" Although I knew the answer. M. The same name that had flashed into my mind just 20 minutes earlier came in again. "Moriarty." I said. Well, I didn't mean to say it aloud, but I just seemed to. I could see out f the corner of my eye that 'Jamie' had frozen. "One step further, I see. So, you've got the main suspect, don't you?" He asked casually. I raised my eyebrows. "Of course." I told him. Jamie then stiffened. "The guy John talked to." I could just about hear the faint clapping down the other end of the phone. "Well done! And can you tell me why?" He asked. There was silence for a few seconds. "I still don't know who you are." Was all I said.

"Yes you do."

"Only vaguely." I replied. "Tell me more. Really, I want to know." Seriously. I really did. "Then maybe we should meet," He answered. But my answer was quick and came without thinking. "In your dreams." I told him. He laughed. I wasn't surprised. He laughed at a lot of things. "Shame." Then he hung up. I was fully grinning now. It had only been one day and I had almost solved the jigsaw. So I did the ordinary thing which was go back to my flat and find Sherlock. Who, in my absence, had got himself a cup of tea. "Make yourself at home." I muttered sarcastically. "So, what have you picked up?" He questioned me enthusiastically. "Pretty much all of it." Then he leaned in closer. I could see the excitement dancing in his eyes and the eagerness that consumed his voice. "Really?" I couldn't help grinning. And then...His face was so close to mine...I fixed up that thought. It was weird. I made it into: His face was so close to mine I could hardly breathe. No, that still sounds wrong. Ok, let's forget I ever thought that. Otherwise I'll start getting annoyed and Sherlock will wonder what the hell is wrong with me. So, let's just remember the case conclusion. I need to call John. Ask him where this other guy lives.

Then it would all be over.

And very, very boring.


	7. Chapter 7: A surprise and a letter

Chapter 7: A surprise and a letter

ELEANOR'S POV

Weeks passed since the last little "Adventure" with Avril. A month even. Avril was normal for a few weeks, she seemed to be shut up in her room a lot. Only came out to grab a sandwich and a drink, then she would go back up again. But for Avril, that was pretty normal. What became weird though, that after a few more weeks, she would go out every day at five o'clock leaving her room door locked behind her.

I left it a while, but eventually I had no choice but to follow her. I used my scooter, (A motor, not a kiddy) and followed her about. She walked. She probably sensed someone was following her because at one point she stopped to make a phone call. So I looked away, and then I running footsteps and when I looked back, she was gone. So I sort of lost track. I went looking for her, following that path then taking the direction that led to the main road. And I came across the most extraordinary sight.

She was with a man.

Seriously!

Of all the years that I'd been with Avril, she'd never been interested in men. I haven't really, either, but occasionally I would do some match-making for her. She'd come home with just another "Friend" (Someone she had laughed about with then guaranteed not to see again). Avril had met men then just dismissed them. She had not gone to see them every day at the same time. And whats more, I knew who the guy was. His name was um...Well, it's not completely clear at first. He had the dark, curly hair, and the brain of a genius. She...Sher..Um... "It's kind of boring now, Sherlock. The case if finished." Sherlock! Sherlock Holmes, that was it!

"I understand. I'm equally as bored most of the time. I mean, I have John but he's complaining about my experiments. And Mrs. Hudson had stolen my skull. Well, not stolen it. I suppose she was cleaning or something and she took it away. But still," Avril laughed a small little laugh the Sherlock grinned at. I was sort of pleased. That Avril had taken interest in someone. I mean, I have a someone. Sure. Called Will. But Avril didn't before, and so it got quite boring. Except from the times we play cluedo. (Avril's favourite game- Despite that she always says it's for "Amateur Detectives who have nothing but games to test their mind!"). "I ordered a package a few days ago. It arrived, but I think Eleanor hid it." Both ends up my mouth twitched slightly. I had hid it. I didn't know what it was. I didn't want to know. "Tongue. Seeing what happens to your taste buds after death." Well there you go. "I don't quite trust scientists." Sherlock shrugged.

I saw Avril getting up next, so I ran to get my bike and scooter home. When Avril arrived home (About 10 minutes after me) she walked up the stairs like she always did, smiling. The she went into her room and locked the door, spending pretty much the rest of the night there.

When I woke up, Avril was gone for some reason. Her room was locked, so I did a little searching. Spare keys. Avril, despite her clever mind, always kept spare keys. I eventually found them (Underneath the bin, which explains why it had always been so obscure) and intruded Avril's room. Finding the documents she always seemed to be looking at, I sat on her bed and started flicking through them. Two of them were from Sherlock, the other from a different man. Mor...Mor...I don't know, his handwriting was too obscure. It read,

_Avril,_

_Hello! I have been dying to get in touch with you but before I didn't know you're address. It came out nice and handy though when I asked a dear friend of yours, Alexander Peptri. Never mind that! I have something important to talk to you about._

_I am quite aware you know the great detective, Sherlock Holmes. And so you are one of my targets. You are a detective as well so, figure this one out:_

_On Friday 10th December, someone will be killed._

_Try figure out who they are. It will be hard to_

_tell, obviously. Try figure out how they died!_

_Then try figure out where I am._

_Good luck._

_If you do not solve at least three of these four questions, someone else will die. And this time, it will be someone you really love._

_Sincerely,_

_Mor_

I can't read the rest of the name so, yeah. But it worried me. Oh, it worried me! I had to talk to Avril about it. I have to.

Or she could die.


	8. Chapter 8: Bumping, Shouting and Horror

Chapter 8: Bumping, shouting and horror

AVRIL'S POV

I hate Alex now. Well, I guess he probably didn't mean to let it slip, but still.

I hate him.

Which was a bit annoying seing as I bumped into him today at Scotland Yard.

I was trying to visit Sherlock, I wanted to tell him something that I had found out from the letter. One of the questions, I had almost solved. Still... One.

Anyway, I was turning the corner and suddenly- He smacked right into me. He blushed, then when he looked up at me, he blushed a deeper, redder red so he looked scarlet. I knew that he knew that he gave away my address. And that he knew that I knew he gave it away. "H-hey..." He muttered, suttering nervously. I threw him a meaningful glance, but other then that, I didn't say anything. "I-I-I'm um..." He trailed away. I felt an urge to roll my eyes, but I fought it.

"I er... I wanted to say um..." I suddenly looked right up at him.

"Sorry?" I asked. He nodded shakily. I didn't forgive him, or accept his apology. He didn't know how much danger he had put me, and someone else, in. I just smiled quickly at him and picked up my bag. He looked at me hopefully. "Have you forgiven me?" He sounded so hopeful, and happy in a way, that I didn't really want to say "no". So I nodded, even though I knew inside that I would never forgive him. He smiled at me.

"I... I... didn't mean to give it away. It was only the morning after I had done it that I remembered and felt guilty. I mean, I – I was d-drunk, and... He kind of forced it out of me, a-and..."

I nodded at him. "I know, I know..." He smiled brightly at me, and patted my shoulder. I looked at his hand on my shoulder, and he quickly snapped it off. "Well, I'm so glad all's forgiven! Really..." I smirked, and walked off.

When I got home that evening, Eleanor, who had been sitting on the sofa, leapt up, her face filled with worry and concern. I stared at him for a few second and then, we a raised eyebrow, I asked "What? What's wrong?" She gulped. "We need to talk about something." She said. I smirked at her, and guestered my arms to the sofa. "Sit down. Then we can talk away!" She sat back down, and I sat down after her.

Then she started talking.

"Well, I've been getting quite suspicious around you lately," she began. I raised my eyebrow. "You've been going off everyday at the same time, coming home at the same time. And the only place you work at other than home is Scotland Yard, and the only reason you would be there, would be to solve a case, and if you were on a case you would have told me, so... Yeah. Anyway, I followed you." My face went down into a frown. She ignored it. "And I found you were meeting with Sherlock! And you never meet with men, _especially _not secretly!" I sighed.

"And then," She continued, "I noticed then when you came home, you would just go up to your room and only come out when you were hungry. And then you would go back in again. And, as well as it being very boring for me, it was quite strange. So... I went into your room..." My mouth fell open.

"What?" I asked slowly, and quietly. Eleanor looked quite nervous now. _She had gone into my room_? That sounds so... Juvenile and moody-girlish but still! "I had to figure out what you were doing in there! What took away your smile and placed that frustration and fear on your face!" Had she... No... God... Had she seen... I leapt up. "So you RAIDED my room?" I yelled. Her face went a bit red. She nodded. "And I found it. The letter. The one from Mor... Um... Mor... Mor-"

"Moriarty..." I muttered, falling back onto the sofa, my face pale. "You read it? The whole thing?" She nodded. "You didn't do anything stupid like, try to figure it out for yourself, or write back, did you?" I asked anxiously. She shook her head madly. "Hell no!" I was a little relieved at that.

"Well, I guess that's good." I said. Eleanor started to speak up again, and I looked at her as she talked. "I want to... Make sure everything's ok. Have you solved the questions yet?" She asked me. I shook my head.

"No, I haven't." Some of the colour left her cheeks, but she wasn't as pale as me. "You haven't? But the 10th, that's in five days!"

"I know!" I snapped. "I've almost solved one. That's why I was gone this morning. I was visiting Sherlock."

"Well at least you've almost solved one, but still..." Suddenly the door bell rang. I ran to get it. Eleanor peered round to get a glance at who it was, but when she saw I haden't opened it yet, she slumped back down on the sofa. When I did open it, I brightened up a bit. It was Sherlock. "Sherlock!" I smiled. He, to my surprise, grabbed my hand and pulled me out onto the street. She clenched onto my shoulders tightly. "What?" I asked, shocked. He looked around, to see if anyone might be able to hear. The he looked back at me. "I've got it! I _know _who Moriarty's going to kill!"

"Might kill," I corrected him shakily. "So? Who is it?" Sherlock looked at me uncertainly, then nodded, as if he was asking himself permission to tell me. Then he whispered,

"Me!"

**DN DN DNNNNN! **

**Thanks to whoever reviewed it and REVIEW AGAIN! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!**

**Sorry I haven't updated in aaaaaaaaaaaaaages, and no, I don't really have an excuse. I just like seeing people's hope get broken everytime they see there's no new chapter.**

**Nah, I lie.**

**That's not how I work. **

**And sorry it was so long. =(**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it! **

**=)**

**A/N: I don't normally put a disclaimer, but I should probably tell everyone that no, I don't own Sherlock. I do, however, own Avril and Eleanor!**


	9. Chapter 9: Snatched

Chapter 9: Snatched

SHERLOCK'S POV

"You?"

Avril looked up at me, even more shocked than she was when I dragged her out onto the street. I nodded at her. I peculiar thought struck me as I looked at her bewildered face. She looked like 'Surprised Cat'... John's been sending me Lolcats all week. All month, as well.

"B-But..." Her voice trailed away. "I... I assumed it would be..." Eleanor. It was obvious. Eleanor was Avril's best friend, so I suppose it would be the natural thought. "I know. But it's not. You've spent most time with me lately, more time with me than with her." I explained.

"But, how would Moriarty know that?" She asked. I looked back round again. I didn't want anyone hearing about this. I don't really know why, but I guess it was our problem, and I didn't want anyone else worrying about it. Not that they would. "Moriarty has followers, Avril." She breathed in gently and held her finger up. "You mean... He's been sending spies?" I nodded, but I shrugged slightly. "Well, sending, it might be that one of his spies just happened to be there, and recognised us, and told Moriarty. Otherwise, yes. He has been spending spies."

Avril nodded slightly. "Ok... So... What are we going to do?" She asked. I smirked. "It's simple." I smiled at her brightly.

"Solve those questions!"

Avril and I left for Scotland Yard, not long after that (Avril had to run inside, grab the letter and tell Eleanor we were going). Yet we had solved nothing. Now, we were sitting in the cafeteria with the letter, five days later, thinking over everything we knew.

"So, the first one, we've solved. It's..." Avril glanced up at me from the letter. I smirked. "Me." She nodded slowly. Then she moved onto the second one.

"Find out how they'll die..." Well, he likes to use bombs. But that would be too obvious, 'specially as he knows I'm helping. He could be bluffing. It could be a double bluff? Or is it a triple bluff? Suddenly a newspaper landed on my head. Avril pulled it off, laughing. I was confused. But, I stuck to the subject. "It could be bombs, but then..." I told her. She sighed and looked out the window. "That would be too obvious, wouldn't it..." I nodded at her.

Then suddenly, Avril looked at me in horror. "What?" I asked. She showed me the date on the newspaper. "It's the 10th, Sherlock! And we haven't solved the questions!" I shrugged.

"We've solved one. We'll solve the others in time, don't worry." I comforted her.

Avril suddenly jumped up. I stared at her in puzzlement. "What?" I asked. She ran to the window. I followed her, still not quite sure what she was doing. "It's..." I peered out the window, and then...

I saw it.

The low-riding jeans, the Calvin Klein underwear, the groomed hair...

It was Moriarty.

Or Jim, as he prefers to be called.

Avril had already sped out the door, and I followed after her. We ran down the flights of stairs and finally, out into the open air. "Where's he gone?" She cried. I looked around desperately. And I spotted him, crossing the road. I started running again, and Avril started to follow me. He had turned down a dark alleyway. John always told me about dark alleyways, but I didn't care right now. But as 'Jim' turned, I realised he had another person with him.

Molly!

I dodged between the cars (Avril nearly got crushed) and took to the dark alleyway. And it was dark, VERY dark. I heard a scream, the scream of a girl. And for once in my life, I felt worried for Molly as I continued sprinting down. Then suddenly I saw his face, Moriarty's, and I was tugged at, and then...

All was black.

All I could hear as I sunk deeper and deeper, was the faint scream and yell of,

"SHERLOCK!"

**Sherlock's been taken, and Avril doesn't know where he is! And it's the 10****th****... **

**HE'S GONNA DIE!  
Or is he? **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed,**

**(Especially ****x-Pick'n'Mix-x****, ****Who reviewed, favourited the story, put it on alert, favourited me, and put me on alert! =D) **


	10. Chapter 10: Avril's Story

**DISCLAIMER THING: NO! I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK! I mean seriously, how could I? My name is not Steven Moffat or Mark Gattis or any other name on the credits of the Sherlock episodes. And probably half the people on the Sherlock credits don't own Sherlock either. **

**SORRYYY! That's all I can say. I know it's not enough for my selfish behaviour over the past two months or something. And just so you know what the hell I'm talking about, it's because of the fact that I have not updated or posted this chapter **_**in a while. **_

**But hopefully this chapter (Short though it is) will make up for that. It probably won't, because it's not very good, but oh well. I'm going to try and post the next chapter as fast as I can. The next chapter won't be quite like this one though, and won't include Sherlock's history, it's actually about what happens to him when he's kidnapped. **

Chapter 10: Avril's Story

AVRIL'S POV

Not much really happened in my life. I grew up, through nursery, to Year 1 and 2, to Primary School, to Secondary School, through to University. Oh, and college.

But nothing happened. Nobody interested me. I had friends, of course; Lila Williams, Beth Reid, Jennifer Vine – They're all friends I had. And then I met Eleanor in University, and we became... Best friends, I guess. I have never actually looked at her in that kind of light, but I have never had a better friend.

But then, she never really understood, or even understands me. Not like you do.

You, Sherlock. You understand me. We may have had a fiery start but ever since I saw you I knew. We were like each other. In a way, you confuse me, but I always know what you mean. That may make no sense to anybody else, but I know that you know what I mean.

I was born in Canberra, on the 21st December 1990. Canberra's in Australia. My parents were actually going on a holiday to Sydney, but they felt like they should make a quick visit to Canberra, because it's the country's capital. Did you know that? I bet you did.

So I guess I'm technically Australian. But I've lived in England for longer. I can't really remember who my parents were. I was involved in an abseiling accident. The thing that was holding the rope of the harness broke or slipped or something, which my parents and I were abseiling down a cliff... I have no idea how it broke, or how I survived, but what I do have an idea of is that my parents died in that accident and I lost a lot of my memory. Some of it stayed though, and I still have a memory of my mother telling me how and where I was born. Though my mother's face is blurry... It confuses me.

I led a slightly troubled life after that. Two care homes, five orphanages. The orphanages were basically more care homes. Were they really that different? No. So, seven care homes. Then my life was incredibly boring. Like I said earlier, I went through all the levels of education. Then I left University with a degree in Criminal Law and Forensic Psychology. And then, along with my CV (All it really said was about my degrees, I didn't have any jobs on there. Apart from a part time job at a shop somewhere and a part-time waiter. But nothing to do with the job I was applying for) I went to Bart's. They said I could try and solve a case, and I did. It's funny; Lestrade said I reminded him of someone. I had no idea at the time that that person would turn out to be the man I loved.

And almost lost.


	11. Chapter 11: SHERLOCK!

Chapter 11: _SHERLOCK!_

SHERLOCK'S POV

A lot must have happened while I was drugged, and unconscious. I had been loaded up into a car or some sort of transport (Probably a van, if being kidnapped is really like it is in those strange films and TV shows John watches) and driven... somewhere. I didn't actually know where I was when I woke up. It was dark, and not because I had a blind on, it was actually dark. The lights had been turned off. Or something similar.

I was sitting on soft ground. Like I was sitting on a cushion, only this time I wasn't enjoying it. My back was resting against something hard though; not every part of my body was comfortable. I could make out a table at the far end of the room. It had a white table cloth, and a cross. There were no windows – or at least I couldn't see any. I stood up. If they hadn't tied me to the chair I had been sitting on, then the door must be locked. Otherwise I could probably just escape really easily. I walked around a bit, trying to familiarize my surroundings. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling it would help. I tried to find a door, but no such luck. I thought I saw something flap in the corner of my eye; I turned my head quickly in the direction of the flapping. There was a massive sheet of black on the wall. It was weird; every time it flapped a bit of light peaked through. My mouth twitched into a smile.

I ran over to the flapping. I paused in the middle of the sheet and jumped, my arm outstretched. I got a grasp on the blackness and pulled. Light suddenly burst through into the room. A window... With a picture on it. It was a picture of a woman, carrying a baby, wearing a blue robe. I looked around. The table was an altar, the seat I had been sitting on actually a long bench. It was still semi-dark though, and I went in search of other sheets of black.

Eventually, I had the long hall lit up. It was a church. I walked up to the altar, and played with the cross, picking it up and turning it upside down and vice versa. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. Someone was behind me. And I knew exactly who it was.

"I didn't know you were religious."

I turned round, facing the famous Mr Jim Moriarty. I grinned. Jim shrugged, his black suit (Different from the blue one he was wearing last time I saw him) crinkled.

"Not really. Just thought it would be a nice place to keep you. Nobody ever comes in except for Sundays. So nobody would ask questions. Or see you. Perfect, right?" My eyes dropped down from his face to the floor and I turned slowly so my back was to him. I fiddled with the table cloth, a smirk carved into my face. "Right." I replied. "But why not an abandoned warehouse? Or something similar?" Jim raised his eyebrows and laughed. He looked surprised.

"An abandoned warehouse?" I heard him take a few steps closer. "We are traditional, aren't we?" I felt his eyes bare into the back of my head, and his grin widen. "Atmospheric? It would really make this seem... Scarier for me. I would be weaker, and you'd have more power over me." I suggested. Of course I wouldn't be more scared, I'd just think it was as traditional and boring as he finds the idea. Moriarty laughed again. _Am I really that funny? _I thought to myself. I looked back round at him. "Why would I want you to weak? I like it when you fight." He said in mock puzzlement.

"You have no idea how psychopathic that sounds." I muttered, turning back to the altar. But instead of looking at the altar, I stared at the stained glass window above. It displayed a man in a flowing red robe sitting on a cloud. He had sun-kissed skin and shoulder length brown hair. Jesus? A man I believe founded the faith they celebrate in churches. Christ... Christianity. Unnecessary information. I heard the calm, sarcastic voice of Jim Moriarty again behind me.

"Oh. I do." This time I turned my full body and strode up to him. My voice was suddenly bitter, my mind suddenly angry.

"Why did use Avril to get to me?" He looked at me oddly for a second, and then sighed.

"How else could I get to you? I've already used John; to use him again would be boring." I glared at him and kicked the stone tiles. "Sherlock!" Jim warned. I felt like spitting at him. I don't know how and why, but my coolness had evaporated and it left was anger. "You didn't have to involve her in this." I ran my hand through my hair. But it was true. She could have stayed out of this, not have been used like that, and she would be safe. "Why not? She was prepared. She was ready. Cooked." He sneered. My fists clenched. He noticed, and his eyebrows rose. "I thought you had no heart?" I frowned. He continued. "It's too late now anyway. She's in this, in deep and out of her comfort zone. And I know Sherlock, and you know too, she's coming. Because," He took a step closer, a nasty smile set above his chin.

"She loves you."

**YAY! That's the fasted I've updated a story. But anyway, what happens next? Sherlock knows now. Or does he? Does he believe "Jim"? Or has Sherlock known all along? Maybe Jim told Sherlock Avril loved him so he would soften, and then Sherlock would be ripe enough to be cooked? If that makes any sense. I just made Sherlock sound like a Banana. Oh well.**

**Review! xx**


	12. Chapter 12: A Dead End

Chapter 12: A Dead End

AVRIL'S POV

I watched as Sherlock got carried away. I chased after them, yelling over and over again. "SHERLOCK! SHERLOCK!" His unconscious body lay limp in the arms of the anonymous men that took him away. They got into a car. I searched frantically; I couldn't let them get away. I smiled slightly. Sounded so much like the Goodies chasing the Baddies. The engine of the car that they were in revved up, and I gulped. As the car drove off, I ran. After the car I mean. I knew it wouldn't work, and the car was too fast, but I didn't care.

I managed to follow the car all the way to a long street. They turned off into a wide alley, and I ran after them. But when I went through the alley way and onto the next street, I couldn't see them. There was a church, and houses. Any of these houses could belong to them. I took off to the left, to the end of the street. I looked in the windows of every house I passed, for signs of movement. I ran back the other away, my mind desperately calling out his name. _Sherlock! Sherlock! SHERLOCK! Sherlock... _

I was close to the other end of the street. A few more houses, and then I would look in the church. And if he wasn't in there... Well I had no idea where I'd look then. The last house was empty. All Hopes were directed towards the church. I spun round, and was confronted with a man clad in black. His arm was raised. I stared at him with wide eyes. "Um... Hey-"

It went black.

When I woke up, I was slumped against the wall of the alley way I remembered from before. He'd done no major damage – The guy with the strong hand, I mean. I leapt up, and ran out of the alley, and onto the street with the church. I had no idea how long it had been. Hopefully I wasn't too late... Hopefully he wasn't d...

I tried to open the front double doors. They were locked. Of course. I circled the church, looking for any other ways in. The windows, but they were too high up. _Well, let's think. This plan of Moriarty's, the way he manages to get close to us, to manipulate us and interest us enough to come looking for him, to fall into the trap... Now who does that remind me of?_

And one question remained. Where a genius like Jim Moriarty would leave his keys? Well there was one easy way to rephrase that: Where does Sherlock keep his keys?

So technically Sherlock kept his keys in an inside pocket of his coat, which right now is in the church itself. So if Moriarty kept his keys with him, they'd also be inside the church. But Sherlock has spare keys... so who's to say Jim Moriarty doesn't have spare keys? And I knew, I know, where Sherlock kept is spare keys.

On the side of Sherlock door, around the rockish door frame, there's a paper sign saying "NO JUNKMAIL PLEASE. I don't have time to read your pathetic mail which nobody pays any attention to." It's securely nailed (Yes, I mean _nailed_) into the frame and behind it lies... The Spare Key.

I ripped down the paper sign on the front of the church ("Jesus Christ is our saviour. Praise Him." Yeah, right) and caught the spare keys as it fell from the sign to patio on the ground. I hastily shoved the key into the lock and twisted the handle. The lock clicked and the door open. I was on my way.

I was in a little hallway with tiled black and white flooring. The green wallpaper was scabby, but still had a new look about it, and the cushioned seats were worn. The place felt grim and depressing, despite its bright meaning. A little table with booklets talking about the church sat to my right, but I ignored. There was one more door to the main hall where the World's First Consulting Detective and the Most Dangerous Man I've Ever Come Across constantly threatened each other. The though amused me, and I gave a sad smile as I wrapped my hand around the door knob. I could hear them talking, and suddenly a shout from Sherlock returned by a small, smug whisper from Jim. Slowly, quietly, I turned the handle. Sherlock was speaking back in his low voice again, and a short, sarcastic laugh from Moriarty rang through the hall and through the gap between the doors. I pushed the door slightly, so a stream of light shone through and into the dark hallway. They took no notice to me, still throwing witty insults and smug threats at each other. I sighed, and pushed the door open wide, so I could see both men standing and staring at me, Moriarty wearing a grin and Sherlock wearing an expression of mingled anger and horrification. My eyes were on Moriarty only.

"Mr Moriarty," I smiled, "we meet at last."

**Sorry about the wait x**


	13. Chapter 13: Answers in the Smoke

Chapter 13: Answers in the Fire

SHERLOCK'S POV

"Avril Swan. It's a pleasure." Moriarty said, his hand outstretched. Avril looked down at his hand and back up at his face, her own arm firmly by her side. Moriarty laughed quietly.

"It's the tenth. It's _today_. You figured it out yet?" He asked. Avril looked at me. Then she shook her head, looking angry. Moriarty tutted. "Oh dear," He said, smiling solemnly at her. "That isn't good at all, is it?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "But you've solved some of it, haven't you?"

I nodded with Avril. "The victim." I replied. Moriarty gave a little clap, a grin big and taunting above his chin. There was a moments silence until Moriarty opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a gasp from Avril. And then she began.

"So the first question, we know that, in fact he's standing right here. Then the second question, which I believe is how they will die, is also simple when you think. Of course you specialise in explosives so that would be obvious but you, Mister Moriarty, are not obvious. You find obvious tedious and so explosives cannot be the answer. Try as I might I couldn't work this question out and that's because I couldn't. Nobody could. _That's _because you hadn't even chosen yet how you were going to kill him. You knew you were going to manage to get Sherlock and bring him somewhere on this day to kill him. You were just intending to bring Sherlock but when one of your spies discovered that Sherlock and I spent a lot of time together you realised that I would come too so you wrote the letter to me. You'd been planning before the letter had arrived and you knew it would be the 10th of December.

"The second question, the third and the fourth question I wouldn't be able to answer until I came because it would be only now that the answers were revealed to me, and I needed those answers to solve the questions because without evidence you cannot solve the crime or, in this case, question. And so that's how I know that you're going to use several methods to kill him. Death in three steps. Two of them are rather easy to solve when you get how, the last one, though, is not so easy. So, the first step, a gun or a Sniper M24 SWS if you're looking for a specific answer. But you don't want to kill him straight away; Sherlock's your main enemy so you want to kill him slowly. A bullet to the head would be the way to die for just a random person I know, but because you know Sherlock too and don't really like him then you might as well have fun. So it won't be a bullet to the head for Sherlock, just a bullet to the arm or leg.

"Step two, lets throw in some fire. If you were feeling kind then it would be only a small number of flames on Sherlock's skin but I have a feeling you won't be feeling kind so it will be more like a big, big fireplace with smoke all up the chimney because of the roaring fire. Not very nice but that's what Sherlock gets for solving your crimes.

"Step three. Sherlock won't be doing too wont be doing too well by now, with bleeding legs and a burnt body. But he's still alive, so you still need to finish the job. You could cut off his suffering quickly and without pain, but that's not how you work. So lets give him some water that I'm sure he wants. And how about we slip a little bit of poison in there? It'll take a little while for him to go but oh well. That's good!

"The third question. Let's see, where will you be, is that it? Now that's really easy, but again I couldn't have solved earlier. The answer is, of course, the church. Easy.

"And now the fourth. Now this one is the trickiest and most confusing one. You see, there isn't a fourth question. At first I though this was a mistake; after all, you must be very busy so you might have just not been concentrating. But no, I realised that this wasn't a mistake. The fourth question is hidden. It is on the page, but it's not a question. In fact it came after the threat. But I worked it out. 'Who will die if you don't solve the questions?' Now this is hard. Once Sherlock's gone, there's only Eleanor, but I don't really love her. I love her, obviously; she's my best friend. But I don't _really _love her. So then there's my sister, but she and I don't get on very well. So there's only one person left.

"Now I don't love this person, in fact I could stand here for an hour pointing out all their flaws and in all the ways I hate them. But I'd fight to keep this person's life just like anyone would fight to keep his or her version of this person's life. So the fourth and final question is done. The answer? Me."

A short silence followed, broken by the cheers and clapping of Moriarty. "And all without a single breath. Aren't you a clever one?" He sneered. "Well done, you won't die. But on the letter it clearly stated that Sherlock would still die, so let's get this over with shall we?"

A gasp of pain escaped from Sherlock's lips as he crumpled to the floor. His hand automatically covered the wound in his leg; when he took his hand away, it was stained in his blood. Another spasm of pain shot through his body as another bullet flew into his thigh. Another bullet. Sherlock wiped the tear from his eye and held his hand over the most recent bullet hole.

Moriarty smiled at Avril, who stayed completely still and didn't rush to Sherlock.

"Step one finished. Step two, fire. Let's play with matches." His voice was sinister and amused. Avril reached into the pocket on her jacket and pulled out a cigarette lighter.

"Oh please, I want to help." She muttered, clicking the lid of the lighter open, lighting the small flame and then dropping it onto the carpeted floor. Flames rose, boiling heat beat against their skin. She felt fire licking at her hand. Then the wooden benches blew up in flames, the cushions engulfed in the beautiful death. Avril took a last look at Moriarty's clenched jaw and his furious eyes. She heard running footsteps off in the distance, which she assumed belonged to Moriarty's snipers. Then she turned round, struggled to lift Sherlock to his feet and, his arm around her neck and her arm supporting him, they limped away as fast as they could. Avril coughed and she felt the smoke rise up her throat. They heard a crash behind them as Moriarty hurtled the metal cross from the altar at a burning bench.

"That's what you get for playing with fire," Avril yelled over her shoulder. Sherlock laughed, and the running footsteps behind them said that Moriarty had gone.

**HOPE YOU LIKED IT **

**Merry (REALLY late) Christmas and Happy (Three Days late) New Year!**

**And of course SHERLOCK'S BACK! WOOT! Happy face **

**Tell me your favourite part of A Scandal of Belgravia **

**I have lots. I like the bit where you have the two girls in Sherlocks flat and Sherlock tells them what really happened to their Grandpa. And then there was the bit in Buckingham palace… ("Are we here to see the queen?" Microft walks in. "Apparently." And then of course when Sherlock claims that sex doesn't alarm him. Happy face times 2)**

**And then there's the last scene where he unlocks the phone and the code is I AM ****SHER****LOCKED. **

**And then he goes to Kirache and saves her. Sweet.**

**Anyway, hope you like the chapter and review PLLEEEEAAASSSEEE. **


	14. Chapter 14: Hospital

**I'm just going to point out to you that this is obviously either set before The Reichenbach Fall or a while after, when things have returned to normal. In a way. **

Chapter 14: Hospital

SHERLOCK'S POV

"... Give up, Lizzy... I'm not coming now; I'm busy doing something... I don't care if she thinks I should help because you're family, I'm still not going to..."

I slowly opened my eyes to a woman sitting on a chair by the bed I was lying in. Avril. Her face was smothered with annoyance. When she saw I was awake her face brightened and she hung up the phone. I smiled slightly as I heard her caller protesting before being cut off. Avril tucked her mobile into the pockets of her scorched jeans and leaned forwards, her elbows resting on her knees.

"How are you?" She asked, worry dancing in her eyes. She looked tired and her hair was messy, obvious signs of a night without sleep but with anxiety.

"Fine." I said shortly. Relief replaced worry. "I didn't know you had a sister." I spoke after a short silence between us. Avril frowned slightly, and annoyance came onto her features again.

"She and I don't get on. Bit like you and Mycroft, I suppose." She replied, irritated. I decided to drop the subject, just as we both heard footsteps and faint talking from the door. Avril twisted her neck round to see who it was. The handle twisted, the door opened and two men walked in. Mycroft and D.I. Lestrade.

"Always was very clumsy, especially when he was a child." Mycroft told Lestrade. I slumped into my pillow and crossed my arms. "Thank you for telling him that, Mycroft. I'm sure Lestrade really needed to know." Mycroft laughed quietly.

"Why are you here, anyway?" I asked them. Mycroft said something about family. I scoffed, and Mycroft raised his eyebrows. Lestrade looked between us, and then turned to Avril. She cocked her head, when she noticed he was walking towards her. He started to talk to her in a hushed voice, and they went over to the corner of the room, her features still confused. Mycroft came and sat in the chair beside my bed. He rested his umbrella against the seat, and looked at me. I stared at him as if to say, _so... Hi._

"What happened?" He asked.

"You have CCTV cameras everywhere, you should know." I said. Mycroft continued to just stare at me. I sighed, and told him the story. "So Avril and I were in a cafe, we saw a man that had been threatening us for several weeks, we went after him, he kidnapped me, I woke up in a-"

"A church, yes, I know. I mean _what happened_. With Miss Swan." Mycroft rephrased his question. _What? _Was my initial thought. But then I realised what he meant. With 'Miss Swan'. I looked at her from my bed awkwardly. She looked really angry about something. I turned back to Mycroft defiantly. "I'm confused."

"No you're not. What do you think about Avril Swan?"

"She's clever. Basically a female version of me."

Mycroft sighed, and repositioned himself. He drew his hand down his face. "I pity her Sherlock. Really, I do. You know how she feels around you, I assume?" He said finally. I squirmed slightly under my hospital sheets. I had never properly understood love. I hadn't felt it before either. People believe I know nothing of love and in many ways, they're right, but they're wrong in one way. It's not that I can't feel love. It more that I mustn't. Caring is a disadvantage, an old Holmes boys saying. It clouds your vision and can make you weak, vulnerable. But that doesn't mean it's bad.

"I was told." I chose my words carefully. When Moriarty had informed me I wasn't surprised. I knew it for a while. It wasn't hard to figure out if you have a more than moderately clever mind like mine.

"Did you hear that?" Avril was coming back over to me. "Did you _hear _that?" I shook my head, a smile playing on my lips.

"Three and a half grand! Thirty Five Hundred! That's how much money I've got to pay for saving Scotland Yard's best man!" She was absolutely outraged. I felt myself laughing. "I think I prefer when they just say 'Thanks'." She continued.

"You could have done it a little less... Violently." Lestrade tried to reason with her.

"I thought about pulling the trigger on him but that would just be suicide."

Mycroft placed his palms on his knees and heaved himself upward. He opened his mouth as he took his umbrella from against the chair. "I believe it's six o'clock, so I must head on for my meeting with an old friend in half an hour. If you will excuse me," He walked to the door, and stopped to look back at me. "Be careful, Sherlock." He left.

Avril and I turned to Lestrade. He smiled awkwardly, waved and speed-walked away. Avril laughed, and a chuckle slipped through my lips too. When she stopped laughing, Avril sighed and moved the chair back to where it had been before she'd come a few hours earlier.

"Yeah, Sherlock. Try your best to not not-deliberately solve crimes and therefore anger criminals." Avril scoffed, and I realised she was commenting on Mycroft's departing comment. She picked up her coat from the end of my hospital bed and slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"You're going?" I asked, feeling grumpy again.

"Yep." She did up her buttons. "Stuff to do, people to see."

I slouched into my pillow, crossing my arms. "People?" I asked bitterly. "What _people_?" She chuckled under her breath and flipped her hood over her head.

"People." She sighed when she saw my gloomy expression. "I'll come back if you're really that annoyed about it." Shoving her right hand in her pocket and striding over to the door, she stretched out her left arm. "See you." She said simply, closing the door behind her. I lay and listened to her footsteps die away.

I was alone.

Alone apart from the unfamiliar thought biting into my skin, travelling up to my head and burying itself in my head. I wriggled under my cold sheets. What was this? A desperate feeling. Confused. I considered texting John to distract me. I thought about John for a few minutes, wondering where the hell he was and why he wasn't at the hospital with me, keeping from boredom. But the thought had gotten angry because of the lack of something to do, and had taken to lurking at the back of my mind, in the shadows but right under the spotlight. I shrugged to myself, and stumbled up from my bed. Pain soared through my leg, and I fell with a groan. I dragged myself over to my coat and, with a shaky hand, retrieved my phone.

I was slowly travelling back to my bed, when the door opened. My head snapped round. The nurse was standing, horrified in the doorway. "You're... _Alone_?" She whispered. I looked around comically.

"Looks like it."

She gave a quiet scream. Suddenly, her expression turned to disapproval at my sprawled figure on the floor. "What do you think you're doing?" She snapped. I raised my eyebrows. "Out of bed, you moron!" She sighed, heaving me onto my feet and then onto the bed. I held up my phone, answering her question. She shook her head exasperatedly. "Really, you could have waited... I can't _believe _you were left alone. What about that woman who was with you?"

"Oh, she left. 'Stuff to do, people to see', apparently." I explained, scoffing. The nurse tutted. I scowled at her back as she hung my coat, which had accidently fallen off when I had tried to get my phone, on the hanger nailed to the door. It was people like this nurse that I couldn't stand. People who seem to think I can't handle myself. The nurse turned to me, straightening her dress.

"I'm afraid I may have to leave temporarily." She said slowly, as if I was stupid. How wrong she was. I call the fact that I could tell she was getting divorced in the next month (due to the imprint of where she kept a ring on her finger. The imprint is obvious so therefore the ring was only recently removed. It's getting close to signing the papers because she knows there's no hope seeing as it's so close so has removed the ring. If the divorce had only recently been proposed, she would still have the ring on her because she would believe that she may still have a chance. It's definitely divorce because if it was death, the ring would still be on her finger or around her neck) quite intelligent.

"Oh, it fine." I said, casually. My pleasure of her departure stayed on my face long after she had gone, and I was lying alone again. My fingers scrambled over my bedside table as my mobile started to ring. I answered it and held it to my ear. "John."

"Where the _HELL _are you?"

"I was wondering the same about you."

"Don't avoid the question Sherlock."

"I'm in hospital."

"Wha- HOSPITAL? What happened?"

"Just a run in with Moriarty. I'm fine really, just three bullet wounds and a burnt down church."

Silence, the heavy panting an exception, rang on the other side of the phone. I smiled.

**YES.**

**THIS IS THE FIRST **_**EVER **_**STORY I HAVE COMPLETELY WRITTEN.**

**I'm so happy =)**

**I hope you liked the chapter. There should be a sequel eventually, assuming I get round to writing it. We learn a few things about Avril Swan in the next one. There's something I kept from you that might surprise you. And you learn about Elizabeth Swan as well, Avril's 35 year old sister.**

**I look forward to it.**


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